


It Just Was

by TMar



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 00:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16439807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: Amanda comes to visit Duncan and discovers that his and Methos' relationship has changed.





	It Just Was

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 1996 when the show was still on the air. I figure it's set around season 4.  
> I posted it to a Highlander fanfic archive, but can't remember which one (and can't even remember the names now TBH).

Amanda walked towards the riverfront, enjoying being back in Paris  
for a while, looking forward to seeing Duncan MacLeod again... but most  
of all, looking forward to being just herself. She could do that around  
MacLeod and other Immortals, but not when she was on her own. She liked  
being able to just relax... even if the time she spent at the barge  
wasn't relaxing for Duncan. She smiled to herself at that thought. Poor  
Duncan, forever worrying about what she would do next! It was all  
rather... fun, actually.

Amanda smiled to herself as she looked up towards where she knew the  
barge was. She hoped MacLeod would be home, although if he wasn't, she could  
always surprise him... not that it would be *that* much of a surprise, but a  
girl could give it a try. She was still too far away from the barge to feel  
anything, but... She looked again, frowning.

Duncan was on-deck with someone else. At that distance it was hard to  
tell who, and if she went too close they might see her. Jealousy was not  
something that affected Amanda; she and Duncan had been special friends for  
too long for that to have any bearing on their relationship. Still, she was  
curious. She put down her small 'bag of tricks' (a girl had to be prepared)  
and took out a little pair of binoculars.

It was Duncan all right, sitting on the side of the barge, in the shade,  
with... Methos. They probably could not be seen from any other angle, which  
was why she had also almost missed them. As she looked, she saw Duncan look  
away from the conversation they'd apparently been having... and Methos put  
his hand on MacLeod's cheek and turned his face back. 'Too bad I never  
bothered to learn to lip-read,' thought Amanda. It definitely would have  
come in handy. The next action, though, didn't require any lip-reading  
skills. Methos and Duncan leaned towards each other at the same time and  
kissed.

Amanda dropped the binoculars. 'Damn!' She knelt down and groped on the  
ground for them, not taking her eyes off what she could barely see. Finally  
she got hold of them, and put them to her eyes again. The kiss had ended,  
now they were staring at one another. Amanda just stared at them as Duncan  
got up and offered his hand to Methos. Methos took it, and together they  
went below deck.

Amanda put her hand on her hip, looking shocked. Not at what she had  
witnessed, but... it was *Duncan*. "Really, MacLeod, you have at last  
managed to amaze me," she said out loud, tucking the binoculars back into  
the bag, thankful they hadn't broken. Binoculars that size were hard to come  
by. And now... she could really give MacLeod a surprise! But perhaps not  
*right* away...

***

"Methos, get off me," said Duncan.

"But I'm comfortable," replied the older Immortal in his most nonchalant  
voice.

"Well..." Duncan squirmed, but Methos wouldn't budge. "Can't you lean on  
a *pillow* and read?"

"Sure, but pillows aren't nice and warm."

"I'm warning you, Methos..." Duncan attempted a harsh tone, knowing that  
he'd either be ignored or laughed at.

Methos only grinned, dropped the book, and moved. "Oh, all right. You  
know, MacLeod, you don't make a good pillow anyway."

Duncan leered at him. "Is that sour grapes I hear?"

"How can you *hear* sour grapes?" mused the older Immortal. "Aren't you  
supposed to taste them?"

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Not really, I'm just..."

"Just a guy," finished Duncan. "I know. You keep saying that." He took  
Methos's arm and kissed the wrist. "But I don't think there's anything  
*just* about you."

Methos only smiled at that, closing his eyes at the feelings that even  
those slight kisses produced. "You'd better stop that, or I might not be  
responsible for my actions!"

"Oh, good, I'd like to see you out of control," Duncan said, between  
kisses.

"Really?" Methos grabbed the hand that was holding his wrist and pulled  
it away, leaning forward at the same time to capture Duncan's mouth with his  
own...

And then they both felt it. Another Immortal. Duncan pulled the sheet  
around himself in a flash, while Methos grabbed the blanket. But before  
Duncan could get to the door to prevent whoever it was from entering, Amanda  
walked in. "Hi, guys!" she grinned.

"Amanda?"

"Oooh, sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked, looking pointedly  
at the sheet covering Duncan, and then at Methos, who was still on the bed.

Duncan merely looked... nonplussed.

"I figured you might be hungry, so I brought some lunch. All  
store-bought, I swear."

"Who'd you break out of jail this time?" Duncan asked.

"Can't I just come for a visit?" inquired Amanda sweetly, smiling her  
most beguiling, innocent smile.

"You?" Duncan and Methos spoke at once. "No."

"Okay, okay," Amanda conceded, strolling over to the bed and sitting down  
next to Methos, who looked a bit stunned. "I was in town and... well... I  
miss companionship."

Duncan walked over to her, almost tripping over the sheet. "Amanda, would  
you mind? Can I at least get dressed?"

Amanda began unpacking the grocery bag she'd brought. "Of course you  
can." But she didn't move.

"Amanda..."

"Well, it isn't as if I've never seen you naked, Duncan." She clearly was  
*not* going to move.

Duncan rolled his eyes, dropped the sheet and put his clothes on,  
ignoring the 'what about me?' look that Methos was giving him. Then he sat  
down at the table.

Now it was Methos' turn. "Amanda, do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

"I meant, would you mind leaving this area while *I* get dressed? You  
haven't seen me naked, and I'd rather you didn't at this point."

"Men!" said Amanda, getting up and sitting in the lounge area.

Methos grinned at Duncan, threw the blanket aside and pulled on his  
clothes. "So... let's eat," he said, putting the food on the table from the  
bed where Amanda had unpacked it.

"So... you promise this is store-bought?" Duncan had to check. Amanda was  
one of the worst cooks in history.

"You want to see the sales slip?" she asked, trying to sound angry. It  
didn't work, as the other two Immortals looked at her with innocent eyes and  
said in unison, "Yes!"

***

When the lunch/dinner was over, there was suddenly an odd tension in the  
air. Amanda knew why - she was now the third wheel, very literally. Not that  
being with both of them wouldn't be interesting, but she sensed that perhaps  
this was not the right time. And not only that, but she wanted to talk to  
Duncan alone, find out exactly what it was that had precipitated this new  
behaviour. She was about to turn to Methos and ask if he'd mind if she and  
Duncan took a walk, when Methos spoke instead. "Listen, guys, I need to pick  
something up at my place. Why don't you take a walk while I'm gone, catch  
up?"

Amanda smiled, conveying her thanks with her eyes. Methos just looked at  
her, then left the barge.

With Methos gone, Duncan suddenly felt... odd around Amanda. The entire  
dynamic was different. He got up. "I'd better put these dishes away."

"I'll help you."

But when they stood together collecting dishes, the entire thing seemed  
false and contrived. They sighed and looked at each other. "Walk," they said  
together.

***

They walked a long way down the riverbank without saying anything.  
"Duncan..." began Amanda finally. "I... You... He..."

Duncan stopped, and faced her. "Come on Amanda, you're much more direct  
than that."

"All right." She lifted her chin. "Whose idea was this, yours or his?"

Duncan looked away. "It wasn't anybody's *idea*. It just was. There was a  
moment when I looked at Methos, and saw something in his eyes, something I'd  
seen before, but ignored. And suddenly I knew the why of everything. Why he  
came to the States to warn me about Kristin. Why he offered me his head. Why  
he saved me from myself after the Dark Quickening."

"He loves you?" asked Amanda in a small voice.

MacLeod nodded. "He admitted it."

***&&&***

Methos relaxed on the barge. "This is the life," he said to Duncan, who was  
trying to read.

"You would think so," Duncan replied, smiling.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Only that I've noticed you always come over here to relax.  
Does this barge look like a spa to you or something?" Duncan's tone was one  
of humour; he knew that Methos knew he was always welcome. He expected a  
snappy comeback to that remark, but none was forthcoming, and he looked up  
from the book in alarm.

Methos was staring at him, with a look of... was it adoration?... on his  
face. "Methos?" Duncan asked, concerned.

"I like it here," replied the ancient Immortal, with no trace of wit in  
*his* tone, looking abruptly away.

"Methos? What..." began MacLeod, but his friend got up from the couch.

"I'd really better be going. I have some Watcher business to attend to."

"What did I say?" Duncan wanted to know. "You know I was kidding about  
your always being here, right?"

"Of course, MacLeod." Methos didn't look at him.

"Then, what?"

"Nothing, I'd just better be going." He walked towards the door, but  
Duncan barred his way. "Not until you tell me what I did."

"Duncan, please." The tone became one of pleading, but the highlander  
didn't move.

"You... you don't think that the holy spring didn't work?" Duncan asked,  
but Methos shook his head. Why wouldn't the ancient Immortal look at him?  
"Methos, look at me."

Finally Methos lifted his head, and what he saw there shocked Duncan  
completely. He knew that look; he'd seen it many times over the course of  
four hundred years. The first time had been Debra Campbell, the last...  
Tessa. Love. That was all it was. Just love, pure and simple, it had to be.

This so nonplussed Duncan that he faltered for an instant, and Methos  
managed to get past him and out of the door.

"Methos!" Duncan went after him, but the ancient Immortal was already  
gone. Duncan stood outside on the deck staring after him, unable to believe  
what he had just seen in Methos' eyes. But he *had* seen it, there was no  
mistaking that feeling. Suddenly, everything that Methos had said or done  
since they'd met made perfect sense to him. Methos loved him.

"Oh my God." Duncan leaned against the side of the barge, stunned.

***

The Highlander paced up and down below deck for hours, trying to decide  
what to do about the situation. There was one thing his instincts told him  
to do, and that was to go and find Methos and... And what? That was the  
thing that scared him the most, that he might actually return the feelings  
Methos had for him.

'This can't be happening,' he said to himself. He had never felt this way  
about another man before... at least, he'd never acted on such feelings, and  
had never thought he would. He'd had many Immortal friends over the  
centuries, and some of them had indicated interest, but he'd always  
declined. He was too much the highland barbarian, and those few times when  
he *had* felt something in return, he'd ignored those feelings. He'd had to.

But now... Methos meant more to him than almost anyone. The thought of  
hurting Methos was unbearable... And the worst thing was, he didn't *want*  
to hurt him, he *did* want to throw caution to the winds.

'What am I going to do?' He knew he had to make a decision, had to decide  
whether he was willing to give up on this special relationship... special  
*friendship*, or take it further.

But he did know one thing: it wasn't a decision he could make by himself.

***

"Methos, just meet me here," he said into the phone.

There was a long pause on the other end. "I don't think that's a very  
good idea, MacLeod," replied the ancient Immortal.

"Look, either way I don't want to lose you as a friend. I need to know  
exactly what is going on, and I don't want to discuss it over the phone,  
okay?"

There was a sigh, and then, "All right." The phone went dead, and Duncan  
smiled. He would be here... Then the highlander stopped, realising that he  
was *smiling* at the prospect.

But he was. He realised that in one way he *had* made a decision: there  
was no way he wanted to lose Methos, even if it meant making a sacrifice.  
But *would* it be a sacrifice? The more he thought about it, the more he  
realised that the idea no longer seemed so strange, so... foreign. In fact,  
the idea was starting to appeal to him. This shocked him, but he couldn't  
help it. He began wishing the time would go by a little faster so that he  
could finally get the truth out of Methos.

***

After an hour he started to get worried; after two he was pacing again,  
after three... he was feeling decidedly panicky. What if Methos had decided  
not to come? The thought that Methos would just pull a disappearing act was  
suddenly very frightening.

Duncan was still pacing when he felt the Buzz, and the door opened. The  
look on his face must have given Methos a fright, because he stopped before he  
even reached the steps and said, "I don't think this is a good idea,  
Duncan..." and turned to leave, but this time MacLeod had no intention of  
letting him leave before he had the whole truth. He ran up the steps and  
blocked the way more firmly this time. "We are going to talk about this."

Seeing that Duncan had figured out some of what he felt, Methos tried  
bluffing. "I don't know what you think we're going to talk about. There's  
nothing *to* talk about."

"Oh no?" Duncan planted himself even more firmly in the way, and attached  
his hands to the wall. "If not, why did you leave so suddenly?"

"I had things to do." Methos looked away; he *was* a convincing liar, but  
somehow he always had trouble lying to Duncan.

"That's such a load of rubbish," came the sarcastic comment.

"All right." Methos looked him in the eye. "What do you want me to say?  
What *is* there to talk about?"

"The way you looked at me, for one. The fact that you left so abruptly  
when I noticed it."

"Looks don't always mean something, MacLeod."

Duncan grinned, and it wasn't a pleasant grin either. "Uh-uh, I'm not  
buying that. I saw how you looked at Alexa, and I know that look." He  
paused. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Methos knew he couldn't, but he also knew that if he stayed he might end  
up making Duncan do something he'd later regret, and come to hate him for.

"I..." He faltered. "Look, MacLeod. You consider us friends, and that's  
all I should expect. I had no right to..."

"What, Methos? Look at me that way?" As he said it, Duncan knew that this  
wasn't the first time Methos had looked at him like that... There'd been the  
time they were painting the house. Methos had said he only cared about  
himself, and Duncan had known then what a lie it was. And there had been  
other occasions...

"Whatever," his friend was now saying. "This is my problem, and I won't  
make it yours."

But Duncan still wouldn't budge. The longer he stood there in close  
proximity to Methos, the more the feelings he'd wanted to deny came to the  
surface. In fact, Duncan knew that pretty soon he wouldn't even *want*  
to deny them.... This time the time the 'oh my G-d' echoed only in the  
highlander's head, as the truth slammed into him, more powerful than any  
Quickening. He didn't want to deny them now. Never before had he allowed  
those feelings to surface, and he probably never would have, had Methos not  
made the mistake of getting this out in the open. "But it *is* my problem,"  
he said softly. "It will be if you leave." He knew he didn't want Methos to;  
he knew that the decision was made.

Making the decision seemed to lift a burden of some kind, and he looked  
into the ancient Immortal's eyes, all fear and worry gone.

***

The look in Duncan's eyes frightened Methos. He couldn't see love in  
those dark eyes... could he? Methos was good at sizing people up - he had to  
be. And his estimation of Duncan was that Duncan saw men as friends and  
women as lovers, period. But he drew himself up, and looked straight back  
into those eyes that he loved. "What are you saying, MacLeod?"

"That..." Duncan looked away, closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "That  
I know you love me." Before Methos could say anything, he went on. "That we  
*share* those feelings. That you love me, and that..." A squaring of  
shoulders, a barrier crossed. "That I love you." The truth spread through  
the highlander, tuning all his nerves into the person standing in front of  
him.

Methos had never thought he would hear those words, not from Duncan  
MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. All the tension seemed to drain out of him as  
he heard that, and Duncan... Duncan stepped down from where he'd been  
standing, barring the door, and faced him... not touching yet. He knew if  
they touched, he would be lost forever. "I can only tell the truth, Methos.  
And with you, that's all I'll ever be able to do."

Methos turned away, saying, "Yes, I love you. And you love me. But  
admitting feelings is one thing, acting on them is quite another." He phrased  
it more as a question than a statement.

When Methos said that, the realisation of what their relationship would  
involve hit Duncan. 'Acting on them,' Methos had said. Did he want to? Every  
nerve ending in his body told him that he did, but maybe... maybe they could  
just continue this way, in each others' company, never crossing that final  
threshold?

And then Duncan knew that he wouldn't be able to do it; he *had* to touch,  
to have that connection. It was the only way he knew he was alive, and loved.

And now he knew, too, why Methos had left the first time. There was no way  
for them to continue as friends with their feelings out in the open. They  
were friends first, but now they couldn't remain *just* friends. Their only  
choice was to act on the feelings, or not have any contact with each other.

Duncan knew that he didn't want to face the future without Methos. He  
*couldn't*. And that left only... "I see now what you meant," he said. "I  
think we both know things can't go back to the way they were. And, whether I  
want to admit this or not, Methos, I need you. I *want* you." Their eyes  
locked, and suddenly the tension was back, only this time it had a different  
undercurrent... a clearly sexual one.

Methos smiled in that way he had, never breaking eye contact. "I've loved  
you since the day we met. I'd have done anything for you."

"You almost did," smiled Duncan, remembering.

"You're right, I almost gave my life for you. No greater love and all  
that."

"You saved me, and you cared for me, and you held back when killing me  
would have been the best thing to do." The enormity of it was staggering. "I  
can't believe I never put it together before now."

"Your mind was on other things," Methos said, grinning half a grin.

"Not anymore..." Duncan responded, lifting a hand to touch Methos' face.  
It was the first time there had been any physical contact between them since  
the conversation had started. And the touch was almost... electric. Any idea  
that they might have had about starting things off slowly went right out the  
window as Methos lifted his hand to the back of MacLeod's head and pulled  
him into a kiss, their arms going around one another, pulling them into the  
tightest of embraces.

All restraint, all doubt was gone, and all Duncan could feel or think  
about was Methos' mouth on his, and Methos against him, their combined  
warmth making everything just a little giddy, a little urgent. He forgot  
exactly where they were, and who they were, all he wanted was to get closer  
to this person that he loved. That he *wanted* so, so badly. Simultaneously,  
their mouths opened, wanting ever so much more... their tongues exploring,  
touching, tasting, learning...

By some mutual decision, the kiss ended and they stared at each other,  
amazed. "Hate to think what my heartrate must be," Methos said, breathing as  
heavily as he would have been if they'd been sparring.

"At least you can't die from it," said Duncan, knowing his heartrate was  
way up there, too. "Oh, God, Methos, I've never felt anything like that  
before." And that was certainly the truest thing he'd ever said.

"You're pretty unique yourself, Highlander." Methos moved toward him  
again...

Another kiss, not as urgent, not as desperate this time... but just as  
sensual. Methos found the buttons on Duncan's shirt and began undoing them,  
one at the time, never breaking the kiss they shared. His hand was *under*  
the shirt suddenly, feeling skin, feeling that electricity again, wanting  
ever so much more.

The chest that he had admired and wanted so, so many times was finally  
open to his touch. The soft hairs around the nipples, the muscles lining his  
stomach that rippled as Duncan stretched his arms backwards and let his shirt  
drop to the floor, still not breaking the kiss. It was all too wonderful to  
believe, and Methos felt as though he were dreaming. He was frightened to do  
anything but touch, because if he opened his eyes or took his hands away, it  
might all vanish. But he *had* to, eventually. Had to see, touch, taste...  
everything.

Methos broke contact with that mouth and began to taste Duncan's flesh...  
First Duncan's neck, then down to his chest, his tongue flicking along each  
and every square inch of that gorgeous torso.

Duncan gasped and held Methos' head as this new lover knelt down, following  
the fine trace of hairs that led down to Duncan's belt.

Methos wanted to feel what was behind those pants... the hardness within.  
He licked Duncan's navel and he pressed his hand against the bulge  
below, feeling it through the rough material. There was no mistaking the heat  
he sensed... no, felt. It was overwhelming to him to touch the one part of  
Duncan that he'd thought he'd never have.

Duncan nearly burst at Methos' touch. It was almost too much, but he knew  
that he didn't simply want to be passive, he wanted to feel Methos, all of  
him, hold him, be one with him... give him pleasure. All that denial, and  
for what? This was *right*. He, too, knelt and again they began to kiss. It  
was as if they wanted to devour each other, and perhaps they did. How could  
this all have come about so suddenly, wondered Duncan. But he knew how. Love  
couldn't be dictated, or forced, it just happened. And Methos was oh so easy  
to love... And to know that he was loved in return was almost more than  
Duncan cared to think about. He had friends, sure, but few who were willing  
to give their lives for him. Methos had been willing, was still willing...  
And Duncan wanted to do something for him, just for him, to show the depth of  
his feelings.

Duncan pushed Methos gently onto his back onto the floor. Sitting over  
him, he leaned forward and pulled Methos' shirt off roughly, as though  
there was no time to lose. The sensation of being there, with Methos half  
naked below him, a hard erection pressing against his inner thigh, was  
exhilirating. He wondered... but no. This was for Methos, and no one else.  
If he could cross this barrier, he could cross them all.

Duncan again leaned forward and began to undo Methos' belt. He pulled down  
the zip... slowly, with intent, as he looked deep into Methos' eyes and  
placed his hand inside his pants, finding out that Methos didn't wear  
underwear. That thought itself, and the feelings which welled up inside at  
the thought, almost made him freeze with delight right there. But there were  
other feelings... especially this one which he had never felt before - the  
hardness of an erection... the pulsing of blood through stiff veins, the warm  
wetness at the tip.

The ancient Immortal almost appeared to be in a state of ecstatic shock as  
Duncan slowly withdrew Methos' erection from inside his pants and looked at  
it... Not with revulsion, not with fear or curiosity, but with focused desire.

...Desire. Before today the highlander would never have thought this,  
never have believed he could have such feelings, but here they were, and he  
welcomed them. He could not contain himself, he had to taste... He moved  
towards Methos' erection, almost sensing its heat as he apprached.

Methos himself was close to orgasm - he had never dreamed he would feel so  
much desire, and be so close to having it fulfilled. So much anticipation  
and so much frustration washed away in so few moments.

Duncan held the erection tightly as his tongue reached out and tasted...

Methos was hardly able to believe that such a thing was happening... not  
with Duncan MacLeod, at any rate. Then the sensations told him otherwise as  
Duncan encircled him with a wet warmth, the like of which he had never  
felt... But then Duncan was unique. Methos felt complete - everything suddenly  
made sense... the world... life... and the ever-present need to love and be  
loved. He didn't know how, or why, but finally, it all made sense.

Duncan knew that this was just the beginning. So much to learn, so much to  
unlearn... And as he tasted his lover's orgasm in his mouth, *his* lover's  
lifeblood... he knew that things would never be the same again. And he was  
very, very glad.

***&&&***

Amanda was sitting on a low wall swinging her legs and shaking her head.  
"I have to say I'm proud of you, MacLeod," she finally said.

Duncan had been pacing up and down. "Proud? You're proud?"

Amanda got to her feet, and stood in front of him. "Yeah. You need  
someone..."

"This from the woman who wanted to bask in the sun together for a hundred  
years."

"We'd have killed each other."

Duncan grinned at her. "I know."

"And... I think he needs you. You both have a lot to give." That  
statement was an unusual act of generosity from Amanda, and Duncan was  
touched.

"So you're not angry?"

"Well... it's a little intimidating, seeing you in a relationship with  
someone who might outlive me... But I think I can handle it." Amanda didn't  
voice explicitly what she meant: Duncan's mortal lovers always died  
eventually, freeing him for her... and he *was* always there when she needed  
him. This was very different, and she wanted to show her approval. Above all  
else, Duncan was her best *friend*, and she truly did love him. So she  
lightened the mood. "You never know, maybe Methos would like to try a little  
trio thing..."

"Amanda!" Duncan wasn't really shocked, he just hadn't thought she'd  
suggest something like that. But he knew she had suggested it because she  
knew him, and knew he'd say no. And even if she'd been serious, Duncan would  
still have said no. For him, making love was intensely personal, and sharing  
such a thing was out of the question.

"Oh, well, it was just a thought..." Amanda began walking back towards  
the barge. "He'll probably think I've kidnapped you by now."

Duncan smiled, or rather, leered, at her as he followed. "And even if he  
did, I bet he could figure out where to find you."

Amanda's nose crinkled in distaste. "Oh, yeah, that horrible Watcher  
business. The only Watcher I like is Joe."

"The only Watcher I like is..." began Duncan, but Amanda turned and  
clapped her hand over his mouth. "I know! Shut up!"

Duncan was still grinning as they reached the barge.

***

Methos was sitting outside waiting for them. "Get all your catching up  
done?"

Duncan and Amanda just looked at each other. "Yeah, we did," Amanda  
finally replied when she saw Duncan wasn't going to say anything.

"Good." It was starting to get dark, and Methos could think of a lot  
better ways to spend the evening than sitting outside on the barge in Paris  
during the winter. Unfortunately none of them involved Amanda, but luckily  
for him Amanda was extremely perceptive.

"Look, you go in before it gets any colder. I'll be a good girl and  
leave."

"You don't have to..." began Duncan, but he knew he was just saying it  
out of duty. For the truth was he *did* want her to leave. That was an  
amusing thought. How many times had he wished Amanda were far away, and then  
been glad when she wasn't? "I'd appreciate being a thousand miles away from  
you!" he'd once yelled. Only now, the reason had changed. And they all knew  
it.

Amanda simply smiled. "Thank you, Duncan, but I know when I'm the third  
wheel. I hate to interrupt true love." And she winked at them both and  
strolled off along the Seine, giving both men a lovely back view to  
appreciate.

"She must be a handful," Methos remarked as Amanda strolled out of Buzz  
range.

"You have no idea," replied Duncan. "Do you know what she suggested..."

***

They were still talking as they went below deck. "I am curious about Amanda,  
admittedly," Methos was saying, "but this is too personal. It's you I want."

When Methos said that, Duncan felt everything come back. All the feelings  
and sensations, all the... need. He wondered if this would happen every time  
Methos said something like that to him. "I feel the same," he finally  
managed to say.

Methos was looking back at him with that pure love in his eyes again. And  
then Duncan knew that it would be *impossible* to get used to that look, to  
the kind of love that Methos was capable of. Every time they touched was  
new, every time they made love it was more wonderful than anything he had  
ever felt. Every experience Methos gave him made it all new again. And to  
wake up mornings entangled in his arms always made Duncan feel so grateful.  
Methos made him feel *safe*. Although safety was an illusion, Duncan felt  
safe when he touched the ancient Immortal. And together they could truly  
make the world go away.

The best thing was, this relationship, this... caring... had no time  
limit. They could take their time with everything, learn things slowly. They  
could take years if they wanted. Duncan hurt as he remembered Tessa, with  
whom he had not had all the time in the world. Tessa, the only person before  
Methos who had ever made him feel safe, feel as if nothing else mattered.  
Tessa, whose life had been a lot shorter than it should have been... but  
even her entire lifetime wouldn't have been enough. And Duncan still loved  
her, and missed her.

"Duncan?" Methos asked, worried. The look on Duncan's face had suddenly  
changed drastically. Methos shook him by the shoulders. "MacLeod!"

The highlander focused on his face. "Sorry. I was just remembering  
something."

"Someone you loved." It wasn't a question; Methos knew that look, had  
seen it mirrored on his own face more times than he cared to remember.

Duncan nodded. "Tessa."

They hadn't talked about her much. Methos knew about Anne, but it wasn't  
her photograph that the highlander sometimes stared at for hours. "Tell me  
about her."

Duncan looked around. "I bought this barge for her, you know. It seems so  
far in the past, now: Richie, Tessa and me, playing happy families."

"How long ago was it?"

"Not that long, a little over two years."

"What happened?"

And so Duncan told him everything. Finally, there was someone who could  
understand. Methos spoke of Alexa, too, and others he had loved... And the  
burden that had been on both their hearts suddenly lifted. Duncan knew if he  
looked at Tessa's picture now, he would remember only the good times. No  
more would he hear those shots in the night. No more would he see Lisa, the  
image of Tessa, lying there atop her tombstone. No more.

He reached out to Methos, to thank him... and found himself being thanked  
in turn. All the emotion that both had never really let go of, came out with  
the lifting of this burden...

Their hands were touching each other, everywhere it seemed, all over. And  
each touch was magnified a thousand times, because of this emotion that they  
shared. It wasn't just physical; Duncan could *feel* the love emanating from  
Methos, and he knew that Methos must be able to feel the love that he,  
Duncan, had in his heart, as well.

Then their arms were wrapped around each other, and Methos whispered in  
his ear, "We're standing in the middle of the room."

"We'd better move, then, I guess," replied the highlander, amusement in  
his voice. They let go only long enough to reach the bed, then Methos  
reached forward and pulled Duncan into another kiss: wet, urgent and full of  
promise. "Make love to me, Highlander," he said, when he was finally able to  
tear himself away.

Duncan shook his head. "Make love to *me*," he said. "I want you." This  
refusal surprised the ancient Immortal. They had done everything there was to  
do, but Duncan never refused him... not in something like this. "Why?" asked  
Methos, softly.

Duncan didn't really have an answer; all he knew was, he needed this,  
needed to be reminded of just who Methos was, why he was so special... why  
he loved him. It was all too complicated to put into words, so MacLeod  
didn't try. As he turned around to face away from the ancient Immortal, all  
he said was, "I need you... that way. Please."

And Methos could not refuse; he'd never been able to refuse Duncan  
anything. He loved him, and that was all that mattered.

***

"Oh, God, I love you," Methos said, much later. "They say that each person  
will have one great love in their life." He leaned over Duncan and trailed  
kisses along his chest, just savouring the moment.

When Methos looked at him Duncan asked, in all seriousness, "And you  
think I'm it?"

"Well, if you're not, you're pretty damn close, Highlander."

Duncan grinned when Methos said that, liking the reply. "Shall I take that  
as a compliment, then?"

"By all means," Methos said, resuming the trail of kisses... kisses which  
were getting dangerously low now, and he had to look up again, just to see  
the look on MacLeod's face.

Duncan was eyeing him speculatively. "Don't you ever get tired?" His  
tone didn't exactly suggest that he wanted Methos to *stop* the activity,  
however...

"Moi? Never."

"Liar!" the highlander exclaimed, grabbing Methos by the shoulders and  
pulling him up so that the older Immortal lay on top of him. "That's  
better," he announced.

"What?" asked Methos, frowning.

"I can see your face now," the other said, looking up into the eyes that  
told him so much.

Methos looked down at him, and didn't know how he kept from dying from  
the emotions he saw there, from the love he could feel. He closed his eyes,  
unable to bear it.

"What?" asked Duncan.

"It's... overwhelming. You're just..." He opened his eyes again. "I can  
feel it all, MacLeod. I can *see* it all in your eyes."

"I know." Duncan let go suddenly, and sat up, his breathing ragged and  
uneven.

"What is it?"

"I dunno, I just... I feel like shouting this all from the rooftops, or  
the Eiffel Tower." He knew he couldn't, however... the closest he'd ever come  
to actually doing such a thing had been singing 'Will you marry me?' to Tessa  
in the restaurant.

Methos just smiled his knowing smile. "You have no idea how hard it's  
been for me *not* to call Joe and drop a bombshell."

Duncan said nothing as he drew patterns along Methos' leg with one  
finger, and the ancient Immortal squirmed but didn't exactly try to get  
away, wondering how Duncan felt about Joe knowing about the two of them.  
Amanda hadn't been a problem, but... He decided to find out for sure.

"Actually..." Methos sat up, a bit regretfully. "I think it's time we  
went back to the States anyway."

Duncan leaned back, looking confused. "Why?"

"Aside from Joe, nobody knows me over there. We can go places, together,  
without worrying that some Watcher will see us and blow my cover." The  
truth, however, was far simpler: Methos wanted to see if Duncan's feelings  
for him could hold up under scrutiny. He waited for some hesitation on  
Duncan's part, but didn't sense any as Duncan got off the bed.

"Yeah, we could do that," the highlander said.

"I didn't mean now, MacLeod."

Duncan grinned... no, leered - something he was very good at. "Hmmm...  
you're right, later would be better." He leaned down and kissed Methos.  
Packing for the States could wait.

***

Joe was working behind the bar, getting things ready for opening in an hour,  
when the door opened and two of his Immortal friends strolled in. "Hey,  
Joe," smiled Duncan. He was always geniunely happy to see Joe again.

"Hey, MacLeod. Adam." Joe wasn't surprised, not at seeing Duncan. He'd  
learned from the Watchers in Paris that MacLeod had left on a flight for the  
States, and he was used to Adam showing up when one least expected him to.  
"Were you two on the same flight?" That might alert the Watchers.

"Yeah, but don't worry. I arrived 'fashionably late' after the Watcher  
left." Methos paused. "I have been doing this for a while, you know."

Duncan snorted when Methos said that, and Joe looked at him oddly.  
"What?"

Duncan and Methos exchanged a look that Joe couldn't quite fathom, and  
then Duncan, still grinning, replied, "Well, what *hasn't* Methos been doing  
for a while?"

"You're evil, MacLeod," Methos said to him.

"Yeah, but you..." began Duncan, then stopped. Methos knew he'd been  
about to say, "But you love me anyway." They looked at each other, then  
Methos nodded in Joe's direction, as if to tell Duncan to get it over with.  
Duncan had a sneaking suspicion that Methos wanted them to tell Joe just to  
see the look on their mortal friend's face.

Joe frowned. "What's going on?"

"Uh... Joe. You might want to get us all a drink," said Duncan.

"And delay opening the bar for a while," added Methos.

But Joe didn't move. "There's an Immortal after one of you," he said.  
When Duncan got this serious, that was usually the problem. Either that or  
Duncan wanted information on another Immortal.

Methos and Duncan gave each other that look again and then burst out  
laughing. When he could talk again, Duncan answered. "Well, not exactly."

"Come on, MacLeod..." Joe was starting to get annoyed.

"Drinks," said Duncan, still smiling.

Joe went to get Duncan's favourite drink out of the back, and Duncan  
turned to Methos, but Methos spoke first. "Ten dollars says he drops the  
drinks." He toyed with a thread on Duncan's coat.

"I'm not taking that bet," replied the highlander, taking Methos' hand,  
ostensibly to remove it from the sleeve of his coat. But then he didn't let  
go, as they looked into each others' eyes again, every feeling returning...

Just as Joe walked in the door. "I got the..." He stopped, staring.  
Duncan and Methos calmly looked at each other, and Duncan let go of Methos'  
hand. Then they turned two pairs of brown eyes on Joe.

"All right." Joe put the bottles on the bar. "Just what exactly IS going  
on here?"

"What do you think, Joe?" Duncan asked. It was a genuine question. The  
highlander had never really thought of what people's reactions would be; his  
main concern had been to make Methos happy. Now that he was faced with Joe,  
Duncan found himself fervently hoping that Joe would understand.

"It looks as though you two have become a little more than sparring  
partners," Dawson said matter-of-factly. He didn't quite know *what* his  
reaction was, but whatever it was, he didn't want to disappoint his two  
friends by acting shocked.

Methos began to explain. "We thought we had better tell you because, as  
Duncan's watcher, you'd be bound to find out eventually."

"Good thinking," Joe muttered, trying not to let the next question come  
out. But he couldn't help himself. "When did this happen?!" he said  
suddenly, a bit more loudly than he meant to.

That was more of the reaction that Duncan had expected: Dawson being  
angry with him for having been kept in the dark. At least, he hoped that was  
what Joe's reaction meant. He spoke softly in reply. "I don't know, Joe.  
One day..." He looked at Methos. "It just happened."

"Aaah!" Joe ran a hand over his face, looking from one Immortal to the  
other. If he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes he would never have  
believed it. "This is... unexpected. You'll have to give me some time to  
assimilate the idea."

Duncan nodded and started to rise, but Methos pulled him firmly back  
down and turned to Dawson. "Joe... if you didn't know Duncan, if you didn't  
know me, if this was something you discovered just by watching your  
Immortal, what would you do?"

That was easy. "Enter it in the files and carry on with my assignment."

Duncan looked stricken. Methos wasn't actually suggesting...

But he wasn't. "I'm not saying that's what you should do now," he went  
on. "You have to decide. But by your own admission you wouldn't get  
emotional about it."

Joe looked Methos in the eye. "No, I wouldn't. But we both know this  
isn't just an assignment for me anymore. I'm your friend, and I need to  
understand."

"I realise that," replied the ancient Immortal. "You think you're being  
asked to reassess everything you thought you knew about Duncan MacLeod."  
Methos paused. "But you're not, you know. Duncan is still Duncan MacLeod of  
the Clan MacLeod. I'm still me." He grinned his 'I'm just a guy' grin.

This was too weird for Duncan, having Methos and Joe discuss him like he  
wasn't even there. That kind of thing *never* happened. "Okay, enough. Stop.  
Joe, you need time. Fine. So do we." He looked at Methos. "We're going to  
the dojo," he said to Joe.

"Uh... Mac!" Joe just remembered Richie going off. Richie had needed time  
to himself after Duncan had nearly killed him that night he'd taken Coltec's  
Quickening.

Duncan and Methos stopped at the door and turned as one, their body  
language telling more than their words could.

"You did know about Richie's... vacation... didn't you?"

Duncan nodded. "Yeah, he called." Richie hadn't said much, but they knew  
why. And Duncan hoped to straighten everything out when his student  
returned. Though how the dojo was ever expected to make a profit when its  
proprietor was in France for three months every year and its manager took  
unscheduled vacations, Duncan didn't know. But then, he wasn't in that much  
of a hurry for it to make a profit, anyway.

They went out. Joe Dawson poured the drink he'd been about to pour the  
two Immortals, and drank it. He needed it.

***

As the night wore on Joe stayed in the bar, but soon people didn't come to  
him to order drinks, because he just sat there staring off into some middle  
distance. He wasn't sure *what* to think about this new development between  
two of his best Immortal friends. He just kept thinking, 'Not Duncan  
MacLeod... Not Duncan MacLeod.' And yet, the look that MacLeod had had on  
his face when Joe had walked in to find them holding hands had been genuine.

And Adam... Joe realised that Adam, being Methos-the-oldest-Immortal,  
would have had a much broader experience than anybody could possibly know.  
Joe liked Methos, and he knew his friendship was returned. He just hoped  
that Methos hadn't had undue influence on Duncan...

"Nah." Dawson said it aloud. He'd never seen *anyone* have undue  
influence on Duncan: not Richie, not Anne, not... Tessa. Dawson had never  
met Tessa, but he knew that Duncan had often made decisions which Tessa had  
not approved of. And when Duncan *had* done something he normally would not  
have done, it was because he *loved* Tessa. So, rationalised Joe, if Duncan  
*didn't* love Methos, nothing would have happened between them.

As for how Methos felt about Duncan, when Joe thought back it was obvious  
how Methos felt...

And now they *were* together, and they had come to tell him the news. Joe  
knew it wasn't so much because he was Duncan's watcher, it was because they  
considered him a friend. Joe began to feel a little ashamed of not having  
handled it all that well. If he couldn't accept this, then he wondered what  
kind of a friend he was, really.

Joe looked around the bar; it was empty. He wondered how long he'd been  
sitting there thinking about this. The clock said it was nearly an hour  
after closing time. And he hadn't even had to chase any of his regular  
customers out... though maybe Mike or someone had done so.

Dawson wearily got up from the stool. He'd go by the dojo tomorrow.

***

The clash of swords was audible even as Joe came up the dojo's steps. He had  
waited until nighttime when there wouldn't be any people working out in the  
dojo. He knew Duncan habitually didn't lock the door because he was used to  
Richie showing up at odd hours. Joe wondered about the fight he heard. He  
hoped it was only Duncan and Methos sparring, nothing more. And it was. Joe  
had learned to be unobstrusive when he had to be, and now he stood just to  
the side of the door so that he could watch the fight without being seen.

Joe noted a few things as he stood there: Methos was a much better  
fighter than he led people to believe, and all the practice he'd been  
getting lately was working. Joe noted with amusement that Methos was making  
Duncan work harder than usual.

The fight went on, and on, and Joe watched in amazement. He didn't know  
if it was continuing because of Immortal stubbornness, or just because they  
were enjoying it. He suspected the latter. As Joe watched, he realised just  
how sensual a sword fight could be... or maybe it was only this one.

Methos lunged forward a bit too far; Duncan parried and then grabbed his  
arm, causing a bit of a tangle. "Ready to... give up yet?" he asked the  
ancient Immortal.

"Not... on your life, MacLeod."

Both could hardly talk, so tired were they from the fight. And yet  
neither moved away to begin again, they just stood there looking at each  
other. Duncan had been grinning, but now his expression changed. "Give up,  
Methos."

"Not unless you can think of something better to do... highlander."  
Methos wasn't smiling, either, but there was laughter in his tone.

The swords clattered to the floor as they closed the gap between them,  
and Joe saw first-hand just how deep the feelings between them ran.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, yet they were still standing at odd  
angles to each other, in a fighting stance. Duncan let go of Methos' arm to  
put his arms around him, but this caused him to overbalance and the kiss  
ended as they crashed to the floor.

Methos recovered first and sat back up to lean over Duncan. "You did that  
on purpose," he accused.

"Nah," said Duncan, head still flat on the floor. "But I might have had I  
thought of it." He grabbed Methos' head and pulled him down, kissing him  
more hungrily this time.

It was this kiss that brought Dawson back to reality. He might be a  
Watcher, but he'd meant it when he told Amanda he only watched Immortals  
doing things he couldn't get arrested for. He was a *Watcher*, not a voyeur.  
And as he stood there thinking all this, Joe realised something else: he  
approved. Few Immortals found someone with whom they could share  
*everything*... heck, even Duncan had waited twelve years to tell Tessa  
about the Game. Joe knew there would be no barriers of that kind here, and  
smiled to himself, shaking his head. Then he walked in, deliberately making  
more noise than he normally would.

The two Immortals on the floor stopped what they were doing and looked at  
Joe: Duncan by turning his head back, and Methos by looking up; other than  
that, they didn't move.

"Hey, MacLeod. Adam."

The Immortals in question shared a look, and then got up.

"What's up, Joe?" Duncan asked, retrieving his sword.

"I just... I thought I'd come over and say I think you two'll do fine."

"Watcher approval," smirked Methos.

"Should we feel privileged?" Duncan asked.

"Okay, okay, you made your point." But Joe was smiling. "I can see this  
will work out. You look good together, actually."

The way Joe said it made the two Immortals suspicious, and Duncan's eyes  
narrowed. "How long were you standing there watching?" His tone wasn't  
resentful, just curious.

"Long enough," said Joe.

"Ooh, a voyeur," Methos said in his most teasing voice.

"Maybe we should call the cops," added Duncan.

Joe suddenly realised that they were going to tease him about this  
unmercifully and figured he'd better make his escape. "Uh, listen, guys... I  
have things to do at the bar."

He turned and made to leave, but Duncan stopped him. "Joe, don't go.  
We're sorry." He smiled as he said it. "Let's go upstairs and have a drink."

"Great." Methos had been retrieving his own sword from the floor. "Coming,  
Adam?" Joe asked.

"Yeah."

***

They sat around the loft's kitchen counter. Joe was listening to the tale of  
Amanda walking in on the two of them. "That sounds about right," he was  
saying. "Amanda always struck me as..."

"A troublemaker?" Methos asked.

"Liberal," Joe said, and Duncan nearly choked on his beer when he  
laughed.

"That's not a word I'd ever thought of in connection with Amanda, but I  
think you're right." Duncan put his beer down, and Methos, who of course had  
already finished his, picked Duncan's up and began drinking that, too.

"Methos!" Duncan reached for the glass, and their hands touched.

Joe immediately noticed the change in atmosphere. The Immortals just  
stared at each other, and Joe realised they had become oblivious to his  
presence. Since his own drink was finished, he got up. Better say goodbye,  
even though he doubted they'd noticed he'd gone for quite a while. "Guys, I  
really do have some things to do at the bar. I'd better be going."

Duncan and Methos snapped out of it. Joe expected them to apologise and  
ask him to stay, but was surprised when Duncan simply nodded. "Okay. See ya,  
Joe."

"Bye, Joe," was all Methos said.

"Come by later when the bar's open," Joe said as he got into the elevator.

"We'll do that." Joe knew they would.

***

Duncan put the glasses in the sink, and Methos watched him. "I think Joe is  
okay with this," he said.

Duncan nodded. "Yeah."

"Wonder how Richie will take it?" the ancient Immortal asked, an evil  
grin on his face.

Duncan only smiled. "We have a few other things to work out between us,  
Methos. But... Richie's never let me down."

Methos nodded, very slightly. He liked Richie, and could see that the  
young Immortal had given Duncan perhaps the only taste of fatherhood that he  
would ever have. He felt good in the realization that, for a while at least,  
he could relax. Better than that, he could be himself. "What shall we do for  
the rest of the day?" he asked Duncan.

Duncan had finished drying the glasses, and now he came forward. "You're  
the ancient one, you think of something." He pulled Methos' T-shirt out of  
his waistband.

Methos turned his face up so that their lips met, giving Duncan a  
perfectly understandable reply.

THE END


End file.
